Flooded

I’m at a flooded art museum. The archives will be damaged beyond repair if I don’t mop up the water. I use what seems to be a blanket-sized ShamWow. It works and I feel vindicated and proud of my heroic deed. “That was easy.”

I am so relieved that I did not wet the bed while sloshing around in the puddles.

Flooded room

I saved the archives!

next steps…

Just read the email from Jasia and Stacey. First off – thank you both very much for organizing the project. Well done.

I think the pillowcases should be kept together as a group for as long as possible to exhibit them. After the project winds up then I think we should facilitate some kind of exchange but I’m unsure at that point where they will be and how you intend to keep track of the group of them. Do they get returned to you two after an exhibition? I would imagine it would be much better for a gallery to ship them altogether rather than individually back to the artists.

snippets…

Once again I’m just remembering the vaguest of bits and pieces of my dreams. I do remember the other night having a dream where I yelled at everyone in the dream a lot! It was a startling dream. I’ve had dreams where I have been attacked but don’t remember any before where I was the aggressor. Kind of refreshing.

I wish that I had more dreams during this project. I think it takes practice to remember dreaming. Clearly, I’m out of practice. But a couple of times in my life dreams have been very important. One time while I was making a large body of work and I got the seminal idea for the work during a dream. So they have served me well. Maybe they will in the future too.

Enjoyed being part of the project!

mini tornadoes

I dreamed I was at my friend’s cottage with a bunch of people. Everyone wanted to stay inside, so I was the only one going out for a swim in the lake. It just so happened that there was a ton of various mini tornadoes dancing along the lake’s edge. The tornadoes were rather dark as they were sucking up a mixture of sand and water. I decided to take my chances, and ended up running around in them, as I could no longer just swim with this distraction going on. The sand being thrown around in the tornadoes was rather rough on my skin though…

black sands beach and foggy nights

hush, and away we go…..i went to swim with the turtles that come to sun bathe on the shores of the black sands beach in kona (hawaii), but as i approached the beach i was shocked to see that it had been ruined. “they” had filled in part of the natural cove were i loved to swim with concrete and were building large ships there. the natural secluded beauty was gone, it had been desecrated and i remember feeling an overwhelming sadness even as i slept. i felt angry and helpless. i felt sad for the sea turtles. i felt sad for the water and the trees and everything beautiful that had lived there for so many years…

after a night of being away from my pillow i came back to its flannel softness to sleep deeply, as though in a thick warm soft fog that enveloped me in a deep slumber. no dreams came to visit again. strange, what is it about this pillowcase?

 

Playing catch-up

I’m not a person who usually remembers her dreams.  I’ve made a pretty serious effort to do so for this past month or two, and even a little beforehand in an attempt to sort of practice remembering.  So I guess for me it could count as a change that I am remembering at all, though I’m inclined to think it’s more the effort than the pillowcase, nice to sleep on as it is (though my head gets stuck to it a little, since the jersey knit doesn’t like letting go of fibrous things, like my hair, for instance).

My dreams have been, I think, more full of flashes of sensation.  This will require a jump in the dream time machine and I’ll have to consult my notes for the last while.

12/17: A couple of us were going to pick up Flight of the Conchords in a large flatbed.  The problem was the flatbed was already piled high with mattresses, so once we retrieved them, the two of us were forced to ride between the mattresses.  I fell out and wandered a city street marked with potholes as large and craggy as craters while cars attempted to navigate them.

1/1: I was playing with my baby nephew, only ‘baby’ in this case meant that he only about the size of my thumb, so I kept losing him and was utterly terrified that I would step on him.

Later that night, one of my coworkers offered to make us eggs.  She had a massive jar just full of de-shelled eggs, and I remember listening to the weird bobbing of dozens of egg yolks against each other, like no other surface.

I love that the internet just has everything...

1/7:  My glasses fell under a couch and were broken when I picked them up.  I wiped away the break like it was a smudge on their surface.

1/28: Last night I was on a plane.  There were many complicated side things happening, but the part that stuck with me most was the bathroom of this place, which may have been either on the plane or the destination.

I had to go (because of course I also had to in real life), and there was a large room with a large trough divided in the middle by a partition.  Each side of the trough was separated into 6 square holes with dividers and a shallow trough near the partition which held a veritable sea of used tampons.  One was meant to do one’s business in the holes, then the mechanism would push the solid waste away, like a giant litter box.  There was a red-tinged urine puddle on the floor, and I was utterly repulsed, especially since I was wearing flip-flops for whatever reason.  I washed both hands and feet when I was done.

Aria

Cause and Effect?

Just wondering about any changes in dreaming/sleeping pattern that people have experienced since sleeping on their pillowcases.

I think the main change for me, especially at first, was having more layered dreams. I feel more aware of slipping from one dream into another, sometimes slipping between 6 or more different stories. On other occasions this layering is more literal; I have had a few dreams about falling through ice into water ( which is not as bad as it sounds, its more like switching into an underwater world).

I may be making this a bit too literal, but if you look at the image I posted of my pillowcase, its a pretty layered and complicated story. Is there a correlation? It’s hard to say. After a month of sleeping on it, the initial strangeness is wearing off… but …. hmmm.

Anyone have thoughts? Has everyone adjusted to their pillows? Are they ( still) affecting your dreams?

Jasia

Dreamdave’s Log:

Posting this entry to express my desire not to reveal my recent dreams and nightmares at this time, since they reflect actual occurrences , circumstances and interpersonal relationship struggles.

 

 

CAT

This pillow is a super neuro- real-transmitter between the real and the subconscious!!  It must have been built by technophiles and ancient wizards!

A few nights back now I was fast asleep, locked in some intense dream.  I cannot remember the full dream because it was interrupted.  All I recall was the following: I was walking, in sun, it was warm, I was barefoot- all safe and comfort.  Then I began feeling a pain in my side, just below my left lung, a great throbbing, heaving pain. The pain grew I woke up to my muscles clenching, when I became aware of the night that had been going on without me I realized that my muscle spazzing was in tune to nothing other than my cat ‘gluk’-ing out a hair ball.

Pillflower Pillow makes me a headcase

I had a nap yesterday that was totally wild. You know those dreams where you physically feel and sense – taste, touch, smell, see? It was like I was drunk, but I wasn’t drunk. I had no control over my balance so I kept walking sideways and falling over. I went to watch a live concert outside on a giant movie screen. It was a music festival but I went to see one band, The Sexy Saxophones (this band does not exist in real life). It was kind of like a ska, punk, rock band, like the Clash. The lead singer was a doppelganger of my friend’s boyfriend but with a crazy wild haircut and facial hair. On the way home I started to lose my balance going down some steps and an old college friend (who was always drunk) showed up and slid down the rail, “I’m drunk, too!” she screamed. “But I’m not drunk!” I protested.

Sometimes my vision would go in and out of double vision and I was terrified I had some kind of a brain tumor. I called my mother, who was a nurse, and started crying about how I was losing control and needed to go to the hospital. Then I looked at my bedroom clock. 2:45 it said. I kept saying to myself, 2:45, 2:45, 2:45! And I woke up just before my alarm went off at 2:45.